Aftermath of Turk Flu
by That G33Ky Girl
Summary: From Season 1, "Turk Flu." What if Robin had mistakenly given Allan the wrong plant root to fake the "Turk Flu" and it actually made him deathly sick?
1. Chapter I

Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue. Pretty please?

Chapter 1

Allan's P.o.V.

"What is this stuff?" I asked, trying to get the taste of that weird plant-thing out of my mouth, "Tastes weird." 'You'll be fine," Robin assured me, "As long as you don't-" Grimacing, I swallowed it. "-Swallow it!" Robin finished, looking alarmed, "I said don't swallow it!" He grabbed the back of my neck, and then took a deep breath, "You'll be fine." I didn't agree with him. Why would he tell me not to swallow it, and then tell me that I would be fine when I did? I was now slightly troubled, but pushed the thought from my mind. If Robin said that I would be fine, then I probably would. Besides, I had other things to worry about soon enough.

A brief summary of my worries:

John fell down a mine, but was rescued by that Saracen ex-slave boy, Jack.

Robin still acted like something bad was going to happen to me. See, this is the way it went (this is right before John fell down the mine):

Robin: I think we deserve an outing to Nottingham, for such as smooth and successful mission. Aside from Allan's ingestion of a certain plant root-

Me: Which is going to do _what_ to me, exactly?

Cue John falling down the mine.

The sheriff's men showed up and tried to stop us from burning the mine, after John was rescued- they had no luck.

Robin finds out that that stupid boy, Rowan, was going to try to kill Marian to get revenge on Gisborne and had to run off to the archery competition to save her.

By that time, I was feeling a little queasy, so I volunteered to go back to the camp with John, who was fine, by the way.

We discovered that that Saracen slave boy, Jack was really a girl, named-something starting with an 'S,' but she preferred that we call her Djaq. (Pronounced like 'Jack' but much cooler looking.)

Accepted Djaq into our band.

By this time, I was feeling too sick to do much more than moan pitifully. I wanted desperately to believe what Robin said, that I would be fine, but I felt too awful to believe it. Everyone seemed to have taken Robin at his word, and that I would be fine, but, at that point, all evidence pointed to the contrary. Djaq seemed to have noticed my pathetic state. She frowned at me, then asked, in her peculiar accent, "How long has he been like that?" Robin shrugged, "Maybe a few hours." She looked concerned as she walked toward me. She stared at me intently until, I, even in my sorry state, felt self-conscious and tried to move away. She stopped me, seizing my arm, then let go abruptly. Her hand went up to feel my forehead. She jerked her hand away, the whirled to ask Robin, "That plant that you gave him, do you have any more?" Robin looked puzzled but said, "Yes. Why do you ask?" "Let me see it," Djaq insisted. Robin handed over a few more of those stupid plant-things. I glared at them as best I could, feeling that dying might be a nice reprieve. She took it from Robin, then sniffed it, just like I had. She bit off a tiny corner of it, then spat it out. She spit a couple more times to rid herself of the taste, then asked Robin, "Did you know that it was going to make him sick?" Robin, looking indignant, said, "No! Of course not! I wouldn't have given it to him, if I had known it would make him sick. I told him not to swallow it! Besides, he'll feel bad for about a day, then he'll be fine." "Would this plant cause him to run a high fever?" Djaq demanded. "What?" Robin said. I felt dizzy all of a sudden. The world swam before my eyes, then turned black. The last things I saw were Djaq and Robin starting toward me, looking very alarmed.


	2. Chapter II

Chapter 1

Allan's P.o.V.

"What is this stuff?" I asked, trying to get the taste of that weird plant-thing out of my mouth, "Tastes weird." 'You'll be fine," Robin assured me, "As long as you don't-" Grimacing, I swallowed it. "-Swallow it!" Robin finished, looking alarmed, "I said don't swallow it!" He grabbed the back of my neck, and then took a deep breath, "You'll be fine." I didn't agree with him. Why would he tell me not to swallow it, and then tell me that I would be fine when I did? I was now slightly troubled, but pushed the thought from my mind. If Robin said that I would be fine, then I probably would. Besides, I had other things to worry about soon enough.

A brief summary of my worries:

John fell down a mine, but was rescued by that Saracen ex-slave boy, Jack.

Robin still acted like something bad was going to happen to me. See, this is the way it went (this is right before John fell down the mine):

Robin: I think we deserve an outing to Nottingham, for such as smooth and successful mission. Aside from Allan's ingestion of a certain plant root-

Me: Which is going to do _what_ to me, exactly?

Cue John falling down the mine.

The sheriff's men showed up and tried to stop us from burning the mine, after John was rescued- they had no luck.

Robin finds out that that stupid boy, Rowan, was going to try to kill Marian to get revenge on Gisborne and had to run off to the archery competition to save her.

By that time, I was feeling a little queasy, so I volunteered to go back to the camp with John, who was fine, by the way.

We discovered that that Saracen slave boy, Jack was really a girl, named-something starting with an 'S,' but she preferred that we call her Djaq. (Pronounced like 'Jack' but much cooler looking.)

Accepted Djaq into our band.

By this time, I was feeling too sick to do much more than moan pitifully. I wanted desperately to believe what Robin said, that I would be fine, but I felt too awful to believe it. Everyone seemed to have taken Robin at his word, and that I would be fine, but, at that point, all evidence pointed to the contrary. Djaq seemed to have noticed my pathetic state. She frowned at me, then asked, in her peculiar accent, "How long has he been like that?" Robin shrugged, "Maybe a few hours." She looked concerned as she walked toward me. She stared at me intently until, I, even in my sorry state, felt self-conscious and tried to move away. She stopped me, seizing my arm, then let go abruptly. Her hand went up to feel my forehead. She jerked her hand away, the whirled to ask Robin, "That plant that you gave him, do you have any more?" Robin looked puzzled but said, "Yes. Why do you ask?" "Let me see it," Djaq insisted. Robin handed over a few more of those stupid plant-things. I glared at them as best I could, feeling that dying might be a nice reprieve. She took it from Robin, then sniffed it, just like I had. She bit off a tiny corner of it, then spat it out. She spit a couple more times to rid herself of the taste, then asked Robin, "Did you know that it was going to make him sick?" Robin, looking indignant, said, "No! Of course not! I wouldn't have given it to him, if I had known it would make him sick. I told him not to swallow it! Besides, he'll feel bad for about a day, then he'll be fine." "Would this plant cause him to run a high fever?" Djaq demanded. "What?" Robin said. I felt dizzy all of a sudden. The world swam before my eyes, then turned black. The last things I saw were Djaq and Robin starting toward me, looking very alarmed.


	3. Chapter III

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Chapter Two

Djaq's point of view

I couldn't believe that anyone could be so stupid as to give one of their friends something that would make them this sick. Poor Allan A Dale is now lying on the ground, running a high fever, with Robin standing over him, adamantly maintaining that he did not give Allan anything that would make him very ill, and that if Allan would have only listened to him and not swallowed it, he would be fine. I didn't think so. From what I could tell, that plant was poisonous, and probably shouldn't have gone anywhere near anyone's mouth. "Move aside, "I told Robin, "This is not the time to stand here debating. Your friend is very sick, and needs to be looked after." Allan, lying on the ground, thrashed suddenly, and sat up, staring about wildly. I rushed to his side, grabbing him by the shoulders. "Allan," Robin said, on the other side of him, "Allan. Calm down, you're going to be fine." Allan didn't seem to hear or understand Robin's words. "Allan?" he asked gently. I shook my head. "He's delirious," I told Robin, "He can't hear you. We need to calm him down; he's going to hurt himself." Robin nodded, seemingly accepting his responsibility in causing this. "Will he be ok?" he asked quietly. "I'll give him something to make him sleep," I said, "And then, we'll see." Robin nodded, not looking entirely reassured.


	4. Chapter IV

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Chapter 3

Much's point of view

I had taken Robin at his word, that Allan would be alright, and so had dismissed Allan's moans as his being overdramatic. I wasn't really paying attention to him, until that is, he fainted right onto the ground. I stared at him, totally astonished. I was sure that, in a moment, he would jump up, laughing at how he had tricked us all. He didn't. Djaq and Robin immediately ceased arguing, to take care of him. I wasn't sure what they had been arguing over, because I had been too busy mourning the fact that I would have to fast for a whole day. I soon forgot about my hunger when Allan sat up and started acting crazy. Djaq informed the rest of us, mostly Robin, that he was delirious and mixed something to make him sleep. He didn't want to drink it, but the newest member of our gang proved to be more stubborn than Allan. I didn't think that was possible. Probably, it was due to the fact that Allan was sick. That had to have been it. Reassured, I went back to my wishing that I had not promised to fast so that I could eat.

The rest of that day was spent, by everyone, looking after Allan, who was getting steadily worse. I worried about him and about Robin. I knew that Robin would take it hard, the fact that it had been pretty much his fault that Allan was sick. Djaq didn't say anything of the kind, but I suspected that Allan might even die. The band was still hurting from the loss of Roy, even I could sense that. The loss of Allan might be too much for it to bear. I found myself missing his nonstop talking as if he was already dead. _Stop it!_ I scolded myself He's not dead yet. One had to admit the facts, though. Allan's situation was not looking good. Despite Djaq's best efforts, his fever was still rising, and he was now shivering uncontrollably. His normally unruly reddish hair seemed to have wilted, clinging to his forehead. I took this as a very bad sign indeed. So, it seemed, did Robin. He was looking more and more guilty the further the day progressed.

Night fell, and Robin left the camp, muttering something about getting more firewood. I stood and followed, after I saw that we had more than enough wood. I found him a short way away, sitting on a fallen log with his head in his hands. I hoped that I wouldn't have to watch my master cry. I decided to step out of the woods before this got too uncomfortable. "Master," I said gently. His head jerked up, surprised evidently, to see me. He must be very upset; I could never have snuck up on him normally. "Oh, Much," he sighed despairingly, "It's all my fault. I knew that that plant would make Allan sick if he swallowed it, but I didn't warn him well enough. Now, he's sick and might die, because of me." I had known that Robin would be feeling guilty for Allan's... illness, and was prepared for this. "It wasn't your fault. You did warn him," I said consolingly as I sat down beside him. Robin, however, would not be consoled, "It's still my fault. I should have warned him more effectively. If Allan dies, I will never forgive myself. I should never have sent him into that mine in the first place." That struck a chord of guilt in me, for it had been I who volunteered him to go in the first place. "Master- Robin," I said, not sure what to say. I was saved, however, of saying anything, by Will's arrival in the clearing. He looked at both of us, perceiving Robin's mood of grief and self-blame, then said quietly, "Allan's awake. He wants to talk to you."

When we arrived at the clearing, I could see that Allan was even sicker than he had been when we left. He was, however, conscious. His feverish eyes lit on Robin, who was sitting on the ground near Allan now. "Robin," Allan whispered hoarsely, "It's not your fault. I should have listened to you. It's not-." Poor Allan had passed out again. Djaq looked at the unconscious Allan sadly. She leaned forward, motioning Robin closer. I don't think I was supposed to hear what she whispered to him. Which was: "Unless something drastic happens, I don't think he'll last the night."


	5. Chapter V

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Chapter Four

Will Scarlett's point of view

When Allan passed out again, I almost thought he'd had died on us. Robin looked terribly guilty for a moment, until we all realized that he was still breathing. Djaq leaned toward Robin, whispering something into his ear, which I didn't catch. Robin looked more worried that ever, so I assumed that what she told him was not good news. For being with us for less than a day, and being the only woman, Djaq seemed remarkably confident around us. She returned to caring for Allan, keeping a wet cloth on his forehead at all times, trying to get him to drink a little water, all without success. I figured that unless something happened soon, Allan probably wouldn't last very long. It might seem kind of morbid for me to think like that, but I've lost many family members to various illnesses, and trying to think positively didn't helped them, so I couldn't see how it would help Allan. Maybe I am a little bitter. So what?

I curled up, wrapping myself in a blanket and watched everyone's actions around camp. Robin paced anxiously; Much paced half a step behind; Little John sat and gazed distantly into the fire; Djaq tended Allan, sitting beside him when not tending to his feverish condition; Allan lay still, looking sicker and sicker. I figured we'd have to just wait and see. Before I knew it, I found myself drifting toward sleep.

I awoke, hating myself before I was even fully conscious. I had fallen asleep, maybe leaving everyone else to deal with Allan perhaps dying. I sat up quickly, observing as I did so that no one else was awake either. Robin and Much were both asleep, wrapped in their blankets. Djaq was curled up on the ground, a short distance away from Allan. Allan! Did he survive the night, or were we going to have another funeral today, so soon after Roy's, which had been only days before? I would have felt terrible if Allan had died and I had been asleep. I glanced, almost fearfully, at Allan and was immensely relieved to see his chest rise and fall. It was irregular and faint but he was still breathing, and thus, was still alive. I circled around his unconscious body to sit on the side that Djaq was not asleep on. I touched his forehead gently, seeing if his fever was down. It wasn't; if anything it seemed higher than ever. I reached for the cloth that Djaq had been using to try and cool him down the night before. I wet it and laid it across his forehead gently. I felt a little guilty over my indifference the night before. Just because I'd lost family didn't mean that Allan deserved to die too. A few yards away, Little John stirred and woke up. By the time he was fully awake, I was back in my own blankets, pretending I had never left them. Let who tended to Allan in the early morning remain a mystery.


	6. Chapter VI

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Chapter Five

Marian's point of view

It was mid afternoon, and I was sitting in my room, close to the window, when I heard Robin's signature whistle, his signal that he wanted to talk to me. I got up and walked over to the window, taking my time to let him know that was not at his beck and call. Despite my firmest orders, my heart raced at the sight of his handsome face. He had already climbed up to my window and was waiting there for me. The look on his face said that something was wrong. My speed increased and I almost ran over to him. "What's wrong?" I asked. He sighed despairingly, "It's Allan. He's sick and nothing we can do is helping. I know that you have some knowledge of herbs and medicines. Will you come and help him?" I nodded, "Let me get my things and I'll be right there." I rushed back into my room to gather what I needed and was soon outside with Robin, who had evidently walked here. I followed him into the forest. On the way there, I asked him to tell me how exactly Allan had gotten sick. I did not know the cheeky outlaw well, but there was something about him that I instinctively liked. He was insolent and rude, but I liked him and did not want to see him sick.

We arrived at his camp and I saw that what Robin had told me was true, and that Allan was, indeed, very sick. I reached out to touch him hesitantly, only to jerk back as I realized that his fever was very high indeed. I bit my lip anxiously. A fever this high did not bode well for him. He didn't seem to be delirious, although Robin had said that he had been earlier on. He was just lying there, motionless. Even his normally rebellious red hair was limp. It was as if this illness had leeched all the energy out of him. With a sigh, I resigned myself to a long night at the outlaw's camp.

After four long hours tending to Allan, I sat back wearily. His fever was down, but he had not stirred or woken. Each member of Robin's gang, although they tried not to show it, was worried about Allan. Still, after all this work, I had no idea if he was going to live or not. It seemed such a waste, to work so hard to help him, without seeing any results. I told myself, "Be patient. You can't expect immediate results.' It was now a matter of waiting.


	7. Chapter VII

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Chapter Six

Robin's P.o.V.

I paced anxiously. Why would Allan not wake up? It seemed unfair, that Marian and Djaq would spend so much time and effort in taking care of him, only to have their efforts go unrewarded. Allan had not stirred since he had woken and tried to tell me that it was not my fault. Although I appreciated his efforts, I knew that he was lying to me, like he always lied. It was my fault, entirely my fault. I was the only one who was to blame here. Allan's illness was no one's fault but my own.

My brooding pacing had carried me away from the camp, into the forest. I glanced up at the trees, seeming to hover over me protectively. I had always thought that the forest would protect us from the sheriff. They had not protected Allan from this. They had not protected Allan from my mistake. I sunk down on a log, my head in my hands. This was all my fault. All my fault…


	8. Chapter VIII

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Chapter Seven

Will Scarlett's point of view

Robin had left the camp again, to go brood over Allan's illness and blame himself. Again. Allan was still just laying there, looking more like dying every second, utterly still and sick. There was no way anyone could mistake his unconscious state for natural sleep. He was just too still, the rise and fall of his breathing just a little faint, a little too uneven. We were all worried about him, I could see it in the way everyone was acting. Little John was staring broodingly into the fire, and jumping at small noises, which he did not ordinarily do. Much was trying to make dinner, but was burning the last of our remaining rabbit. He would never have done that on a normal day. It didn't really matter, however, because no one was really hungry. We were all too worried to eat. Djaq was sitting next to Allan, staring at nothing, and I could tell that she, like Robin, felt guilty over Allan's state. Her dark eyes looked vacant and suspiciously bright and I hoped she wouldn't start crying. Robin had left the camp. This, I knew, was his way of dealing with his guilt. Allan, well, I didn't even like looking at Allan. Every breath he took was a reminder that it might be his last, that this might be his last day with us. We might never see his quick grin, or hear him try to talk himself out of the trouble he got himself into, or hear his outrageous lies ever again. And me, well, I stared into space, holding a piece of wood in my hands, just turning it over and over, as I contemplated Allan's impending fate(s). He would either wake up again and be totally fine, or he might wake up and die later, or he might never wake up and die anyway. Only one was a good option, and that once currently seemed the most unlikely. I had just concluded that Allan's future was looking pretty bleak, when suddenly Djaq shouted. I wanted to tell her to be quiet, that it was not a time for shouting, but then I listened to what she was shouting. She was saying that Allan was awake! We all dashed over to where our ill friend was sprawled. Indeed, Allan was awake, looking drowsy and sick but definitely conscious. He gazed up at all of us, looking pretty confused. His lips moved slightly. We all leaned closer to hear what he was trying to say. "Robn," Allan whispered. He seemed to want to talk to him, so I hurried into the forest to find our missing leader. I soon found him, sitting on a fallen log, his head in his hands. He mumbled something about it being all his fault. I touched his shoulder and he almost jumped out of his skin. Normally no one would have been able to sneak up on him. "Robin," I said, "Allan's awake again. He wants to talk to you." He jumped up and we ran back to camp. Allan seemed to be a little stronger than when I left. He was talking to Djaq, telling her something. She gave him a weak smile. Robin approached nervously. "Hello, Allan," he said quietly, "How are you?" "I'm alright," Allan said, his trademark grin belying his weak condition. I and everyone else took this as a good sign. His coppery hair, although not standing fully upright yet, was showing signs of returning to its usual rebellious state. "Robin, it wasn't your fault. I should have listened to you," Allan said, looking Robin in the eyes, "You tried to warn me, but I didn't listen to you. The fact that I got sick wasn't your fault. You have to believe that. It was all my fault. It had nothing to do with you. It wasn't your fault." Allan looked exhausted, and seemed to be fading towards sleep, but I had a feeling that if he did fall asleep, it would be the normal sleep of exhaustion, not the comatose state he had been in earlier. Indeed, even as we watched, he fell asleep. Djaq, seemingly weak with relief, suddenly took charge, ordering the rest of us to go out and get some more food, and to throw out the burned mess that Much had made earlier. Normally, Much would have endured some good-natured teasing for this, but they were all too overjoyed at Allan's apparent recovery to even tease Much. I grabbed my bow and joined Little John in hunting for some food. Little John, normally a fairly expressionless man, was grinning elatedly. As soon as he saw me looking, though, he wiped the smile from his face and became the John I knew. I was somewhat glad. The grinning John was a little frightening. The atmosphere of the entire camp had, in mere minutes, gone from a depressed mood to a jubilant party-like air. The fact that Allan would be ok had changed that. Allan would be ok and that was all that mattered. Allan's life made all the difference. It was kind of funny, really, for none of us would have told him that to his face, but it was true. His living or dying made all the difference. And his life would never be taken for granted.


End file.
